


You Belong with Me

by hihilumin, IamHobbes



Series: Save Your Breath [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Decisions, F in the chat for Kuroo Tetsurou, HQSwiftWeek2020, M/M, Mutual Pining, medium rare? angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihilumin/pseuds/hihilumin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamHobbes/pseuds/IamHobbes
Summary: So, then,Kuroo thinks while taking a deep breath,what the hell are you so afraid of?He’s got nothing to hide. Still, why does his chest constrict like he’s running out of oxygen? Why is it so hard to tell his best friend that he’s been dating the former Karasuno captain, Sawamura Daichi?
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Series: Save Your Breath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921648
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: Haikyuu x Taylor Swift Week 2020





	You Belong with Me

_If you could see that I'm the one who understands you,  
been here all along, so why can't you see?  
You belong with me.  
  
_

*****  
  
**

Language is, on a practical level, supposed to facilitate meaningful exchanges between two or more people. That’s according to the textbooks, at least, which Kuroo poured over last semester. He’s a smooth talker, not to brag, when it comes to (sort of) charming his college professors or getting a rise out of someone from across the net. He has a surfeit of words waiting to be utilized unto the metaphorical spate of unsuspecting ears— or some eloquent BS like that.

That said, he’s kinda skeptical about the whole language business being more practical than theoretical, as he walks into his best friend’s room and sits down on his bed. Like, Kuroo _thought_ that going home for the weekend with the intention of breaking some big news to Kenma would be a piece of cake. Yet, no matter how much he _practiced_ talking to himself in the mirror, he still doesn’t know what’s gonna come out of his mouth.

In fact, he even tenses up when Kenma turns to him from his spot on the floor, hair falling into his eyes and PlayStation controller in hand. Kuroo waves two fingers at him, face clear of expression. _Keep it cool, Tetsurou,_ he thinks to himself. Keep it cool. Keep it cool.

“Hey,” Kenma greets him.

“Yeaugh,” Kuroo replies.

Kenma raises an eyebrow at him. Kuroo tries for a (too wide) smile. He scratches the back of his head as Kenma shrugs and turns back to the game he’s playing. Well, so much for smooth talking.

“So, uh,” Kuroo starts, before he can lose the nerve. “I’ve got something to— I mean, like— well, no, but it’s kind of— important to say?”

The cat’s got his tongue and is ripping it to shreds. Screw language. Language sucks. There was nothing meaningful about that. Kuroo sees Kenma scrunch his nose up, pausing the game again. He tilts his head at Kuroo and Kuroo feels like he’s gonna have a stroke.

“… Okay.”

To be honest, Kuroo doesn’t understand the reason for his being on edge. It’s Kenma he talking to, after all. It’s not like his news is illicit, or scandalous, or anything to that effect. It’s not like he’s killed a man or tried to (though he doubts Kenma would ever mind). Some would consider it good news, too, if he’s being real with himself. Most would congratulate him on his luck (like Kai did when he found out). Most would wish him well and pat him on the back for good measure. _Most would approve_ , he reminds himself. Most would approve.

 _So, then_ , Kuroo thinks while taking a deep breath, _what the hell are you so afraid of?_ He’s got nothing to hide. Still, why does his chest constrict like he’s running out of oxygen? Why is it so hard to tell his best friend that he’s been dating the former Karasuno captain, Sawamura Daichi?

It’s Kenma he's talking to, after all.

“Don’t freak out,” Kuroo says, bouncing his leg. He shoves his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie, fidgeting all the while. Kenma, for his part, waits patiently for Kuroo to get it together. He sets the controller down on his lap and mutters “Sure.”

“I’m seeing someone.”

Kuroo feels his cheeks go red. He wonders why his heart is pounding— scratch that— _exploding_ in his chest. Kenma blinks once and then stares at him evenly. Kuroo bites at his lower lip, bracing for some sort of reaction.

“Who?” Kenma asks, like a rational person.

Kuroo avoids his gaze. “You remember the captain of Karasuno from before? Sawamura?”

“Oh,” Kenma answers, looking unfazed. “Him.”

“Yeah. Turns out we chose the same university,” Kuroo explains. He stretches his legs out in front of him, glancing at his feet. “We’re both made the volleyball team, so we spend a lot of time together. It just made sense to, y’know, go out.”

“Ah,” Kenma intones. He looks down at his controller, fiddling with the joysticks. “I’m happy for you,” he offers and turns back to the TV.

 _That’s it?_ Kuroo thinks, exhaling slow. Nothing else seems follow. Nothing drastic seems to change. As Kenma restarts his game without another word, Kuroo feels both relieved and stupid at the same time. There was nothing at all to be worked up about. Good. Great! What was he expecting? An objection?

An objection. Ha. Right.

Right?

“Thanks,” Kuroo mumbles, falling back into the bed. He takes out his phone to text Daichi if he wants to be his boyfriend.

**  
***  
  
**

Communication renders developments possible, be it on the scale of the historical or the mundane. From the barter system to hooking up, a simple connection can make for leaps and bounds. In Kuroo’s case, it’s happens to be true, and he can make a PowerPoint presentation on the topic if need be. He isn’t taking a communications elective for nothing, and he needs the extra credit if he wants a good grade.

 _Listen, Takahashi-sensei_ , Kuroo imagines himself reciting. _I know what I’m talking about here._ He can map out the conversation of kisses that led him to the decision that he and Sawamura should share an apartment after their first year of college. Well, a conversation of kisses and… other stuff he can’t quite talk about in class: A crate of beer. A too-small futon. Yeah, that was _some_ development, alright.

Kuroo smirks as he clicks the button that allows Skype access to his laptop’s mic and camera. He puts on his earphones and waits. With his two roommates smoking out in the fire escape, he’s got the dorm all to himself for once. It’s a good enough time, as any, to catch up with his best friend.

“Can you hear me?” He asks as Kenma’s video starts up. He brings his legs up on his chair and hugs his knees.

“Yeah,” Kenma responds, voice slightly muffled by the quality of the call. He adjusts his headset and brushes the hair out of his eyes. “I can hear.”

“Cool,” Kuroo says, staring at Kenma’s blurry face. He can hear some distant noise in the background. It must be raining over there. “So, how’ve you been? What’s up? What’s been going on?” He brings his hands to the back of his head and leans into them.

Kenma snorts. “You sound like an old, meddling uncle.”

Kuroo makes an offended sound. “Um, I do _not_.”

“You do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too— either way, I just ended a stream a few minutes ago.”

“A stream, eh?” Kuroo grins, setting his feet down on the floor again. During the summer, Kenma had begun gaming on a streaming platform for fun. It was something he decided to do without prodding from others and (no surprise, given his skill) it garnered him a mild following online. Seeing him invest in something so integral to him (and, at the same time, make a genuine attempt to come out of his shell) was like gears grinding into place after a long time turning. It made Kuroo extra proud to be his best friend. “How many tuned in?”

“Hm… about five hundred.”

“Not bad, not bad.”

“I’m thinking of starting a YouTube channel to make more off the views.”

“That’s smart,” Kuroo muses. “I can help out, if you want.”

“Sure,” Kenma answers. “That’d be nice.”

The two spend their time discussing the logistics of a channel, wondering about concepts and target demographics. Kuroo has a lot of input (thanks, communications elective!) and Kenma listens to him with a half-serious face. Their discussion eventually devolves into other, existential stuff (i.e. whether Kuroo would make a convincing Instagram baddie). Before they know it, hours have passed and Kenma’s mom is calling him for dinner. They agree to keep working on the idea of the channel in the future.

“By the way,” Kuroo adds, right before both of them go offline. He brings a hand to nape of his neck and rubs the knot below it. “I almost forgot to tell you. Daichi and I are moving in together. We’re gonna rent an apartment. Probably around next month.”

“Oh,” Kenma mumbles, squinting at Kuroo. He goes quiet for a second, taking the information in. As he opens his mouth, Kuroo feels his heart beat faster. He holds his breath as Kenma says: “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo exhales, shrugging his shoulders. “Beats the dorm, and it’ll be less on the expenses if we’re gonna split the cost of living.” Plus, of course, they get to be with each other— boyfriend and boyfriend. Just him and Sawamura. Was there a more ideal scenario than that? 

“I see,” Kenma replies, looking away from the camera. “Good luck, then,” he continues as his mom calls for him again. As Kenma turns to tell her “I’ll be down in a minute,” Kuroo tries to find the courage to ask him a question.

“Hey, I have to go,” Kenma murmurs, scratching his nose. “Dinner’s ready and my dad’s hungry. Talk soon.”

“Wait,” Kuroo cuts in, biting the inside of his cheek. “What did… what did you mean by ‘really’?”

“Huh?”

“When I told you we’re moving in together,” Kuroo clarifies. “You said ‘really?’”

“Ah,” Kenma blinks. “… It’s nothing.”

“Lemme guess,” Kuroo teases, a hand to his chin. “You thought we’d be over by now. You thought we wouldn’t work out?”

Kenma frowns at the suggestion. “I didn’t say that, Kuroo.”

 _No_ , Kuroo thinks. _I did_.

**  
***  
  
**

When words fail, there is silence. No need for textbooks or college credits to know that. It’s natural to be speechless where speeches fall short. Sometimes, it’s a good thing. Like, who wants to run their mouth all the time? But, for the most part, there’s restlessness when one’s forced to shut up.

It’s quiet in the apartment. Kuroo’s well aware of that. It’s a quarter before noon and there he is, creeping around like a mouse. One would think that a new school year would go easier on diligent students like himself. The opposite is true, though, and he doesn’t want to wake his boyfriend who just pulled an all-nighter.

That said, he’s still giving it all he’s got in the kitchen, despite having minimal (read: abysmal) talent at cooking. There’s a simmering pot of broth on the stove and a plate of vegetables on the counter; there are bowls laid out and the chopsticks are washed, waiting to be dried. A bunch of eggs wobble on the dining table, needing to be boiled, and there’s a box of flour sitting there, too, for… aesthetic purposes.

Kuroo’s glued to the recipe on his phone, checking it every quarter of a second or so. He’s running on three hours of sleep, caffeine, and the sheer willpower of being alive. Still, it’s a special day, all things considered, and he wants things to run smooth. Kenma, who he hasn’t seen in a while, is visiting the apartment for the first time.

He’s ladling the soup into the bowls when he hears the doorbell ring. He wipes his hands on a dish towel and walks over to the door. He unrolls the sleeves of his hoodie and dusts off his dark jeans. He runs a hand through his hair and lets his best friend in.

“You look awful,” Kenma greets him.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Kuroo steps aside and opens the door wide. “Let’s eat, I made us ramen.”

As Kenma enters the room, a crease forms between Kuroo’s brows. Did he look _that_ tired? Was it that noticeable? He thought he seemed presentable at least, the last time he checked a mirror. He had dark circles under his eyes, sure, but what university kid didn’t? Or was he reading too much into the comment and losing braincells in the process?

“You cooked,” Kenma states, as though it weren’t obvious.

“Hey,” Kuroo grumbles. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Remember when we tried cooking curry at your house and ended up with a solid brick of pork?”

“… Yeah.”

“I think this is an improvement.”

Kuroo beams. “You think so?”

Kenma pulls out a dining chair and sits down with a nod. Kuroo walks over to the counter and brings two bowls over. The two are about to start eating when they hear a shuffle from behind them. The bedroom door opens and a young man comes out of it.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Kuroo calls out.

“Smells great in here, Kuroo,” Daichi yawns, sporting disheveled hair. Then: “Oh,” the former captain startles as he sees Kenma sitting at their table. He wipes some drool off his cheek and brushes some lint off his shirt. “You didn’t tell me that someone was coming over.”

Kuroo shrugs, taking a spoon. “It’s just Kenma.”

“Hey,” Kenma mumbles, waving a hand.

“Still,” Daichi chides, putting his hands on his hips. “A little heads-up would be nice.” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s good to see you, though, Kenma,” he adds with a warm smile. “Been watching your recent videos. Good stuff.”

“Oh… Thanks.”

“C’mon, don’t be mad, babe,” Kuroo pouts, standing up and siding up to Daichi. He points at the remaining bowl on the counter. “I made you ramen too.”

“I’m not mad,” Daichi replies as Kuroo puts his arms around his shoulders. As he leans in to kiss him, Daichi raises a hand to Kuroo’s lips, saying: “Also, don’t call me ‘babe’.”

Kuroo chuckles into Daichi’s fingers. “Whatever you say, babe.”

Daichi rolls his eyes but brings down his hand, letting Kuroo plant a kiss on him. He even opens his mouth so that the kiss can go a little deeper. Kuroo smiles as he does, pulling his boyfriend closer. Daichi responds by laughing. Kenma looks away.

“Love you,” Kuroo murmurs when the two pull apart. Daichi smiles and ruffles his hair, walking toward the counter with the ramen. Kuroo goes back to the dining table and Kenma doesn’t meet his gaze. He thinks it’s a pain to come so close to what shouldn’t be said.

**  
***  
  
**

_Standing by and waiting at your back door,_  
_all this time, how could you not know, baby?_  
_You belong with me._


End file.
